because while some truths lend themselves to equations, others are best described in verse

solitude of a sun at midnight

awake from dreaming, she
hoards this unbearable
weight, keeps it
hidden between mountains
and the folds of her soul.
she holds the minutes close,
gathers them together like
down feathers or memories
to ease the chill of her skin;
unties the knots,
shaves her legs,
rocks back and forth
on naked haunches
in a room closed off by darkness,
looking for meaning
with her eyes closed.